


How Harry Became Xanxus

by Starchains



Series: Beginnings and Becomings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starchains/pseuds/Starchains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can one unstable Mist change everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Harry Became Xanxus

All flames need a Sky. The less powerful simply need to be around one, the most powerful need to be harmonized to one to remain stable. But if the bond is broken, if the Sky dies or rejects them, the flame can become less stable than if they’d never harmonized at all.

Marica was the daughter of a minor member of the Veleno Family. By the time she was six, she was recognised as a prodigy, the most talented Mist user the family had ever had. No expense was spared in her tutoring. One day, the family whispered, she would be a match even for Mammon of the Varia. Her illusions were subtle. No false faces or grand illusory backdrops. Her skills lay in making people look the other way, making the fantastic seem ordinary or the ordinary fantastic. Combined with her study of politics and public speaking and her knack for reading people, she was deadly. Her pretty face and petite figure only helped her.

The Mafia was shocked when she chose to follow Alesio, a young Sky from a minor Family. A lot of other families had been hoping to add her to their ranks, and the Veleno had been hoping to make some powerful allies. But Alesio was the one she harmonised with, and together they brought the Coniglio Family out of obscurity. Within five years, they were a force to be reckoned with. They always came out of negotiations successful, even with Families that had hated them before. But their new partners would insist that there was no foul play, that of course they would know if their minds were being influenced.

Marica had built her perfect world around her, turned her dream into a reality. That was the way of the Mist user. She hadn’t expected it to come crashing down at the hands of a clumsy assassin. She and Alesio had been out shopping. It was only them; he had never needed any other bodyguard but her. It was crowded and hot, and they were both irritable and distracted. They were in the middle of sniping at each other about ice cream, of all things, when she saw the assassin lunge at Alesio. She had redirected him without a thought, confident that the knife would miss and Alesio would be safe. That was what had happened so many times before, after all. But this assassin tripped on the crowded pavement, and the knife that had been heading harmlessly away twisted, and drove deep into her Sky before she could even register what had happened. The poison on the knife killed him before he hit the ground.

The harmonization breaking was like nothing she had ever felt before. The core of her world had been ripped away, and she felt reality disintergrate around her. Her Sky, the one she had built her life, her very self around, was dead. For any other flame, this would be agonising. For a Mist, it was deadly. A Mist without a very strong grip on reality was a danger to themselves and everyone around. The corner of her mind that was still processing told her that she needed to leave, that soon people would come to take her down. She left the lifeless husk of what had been the most important person in her life lying in the street, surrounded by screaming civilians. Her own knife flashed. His murderer joined him on the ground, lying there like so much trash.

She wound up in England, eventually. By the time she made it there, her grasp on reality was barely strong enough to allow her to find food and shelter. She knew that her Sky had been important, and powerful. And he was alive. He had to be alive, she refused to lose the most important person in her life. And her Mist, which had previously ensnared so many others, turned itself inwards. She knew that her Sky was Vongola Nono, the most powerful Mafia leader. He would never be taken down by anything as pathetic as a knife. The illusion built itself in her mind until she truly believed it. He had sent her to England for her protection. She had to avoid anyone from a Mafia Family, because they could have been sent to kill her in order to weaken him. So she wandered, hiding herself from sight more through instinct than by any conscious thought. Eventually, she found herself in a little suburb in Surrey, where a baby was lying on a doorstep, wrapped in a fleecy blue blanket.

A baby. She and her Sky had been talking about having a baby, a legacy. Her Mist pulled her away from the dangerous, painful memory, twisting into something pleasant. Of course she had been sent to England to have her baby in safety. But now Xanxus was old enough to travel, and he needed to be returned to his father. She discarded the letter in her baby’s blanket without reading it. When Petunia Dursley opened the door the next morning, she would see it there and pick it up quickly, before the neighbours saw. It would go in the fire, unopened.

-

Timoteo had never seen the woman before. He knew her by reputation – she was a powerful Mist, and he had been a little disappointed when she chose to join the Coniglio Family. He had known that she was dangerous, and so he had never met her in person. He wasn’t willing to take the chance that she could ensnare him. Even now, with her control over her Mist flame almost gone, she had managed to pass through his security unseen. She seemed unaware of the guns trained on her as she held out her precious bundle, waiting for his approval. He knew the baby couldn’t be his, and he was about to turn the poor woman away. He wouldn’t risk the scandal of having her die in his office; that would mean letting people know that she had defeated his security. He would have to ask Reborn for a favour later. Unstable Mists were too dangerous to have wandering around.

But then he looked at the child properly. The potential there made him catch his breath. The Sky flames within him burned strong even as an infant. He would be an asset to the family. He took the child from Marica, smiling kindly at her. He didn’t notice the tendril of Mist making its way through his mind. Until he died, he would believe that the idea to raise the boy as his own son rather than just another Vongola orphan was his. Even though he knew intellectually that Xanxus was not his son, his heart would always see him as his precious, beloved child.


End file.
